


Amarendram Jeevakrutih

by CarminaVulcana



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 08:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21133577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarminaVulcana/pseuds/CarminaVulcana
Summary: The famous 11th century poet, Charandas, lived a privileged life in the court of Maharaj Ranendra Baahubali, the grandson of Maharaj Mahendra Baahubali-- remembered as the Emperor of Commoners. Charandas composed numerous verses in praise of the contemporary king and the living members of the royal family. But a request from an aged dancing maestra from Singhapuram, Sreemathi Tarachandrika Devi (known as Tara Devi during her youth) made him search for a man who has always been more legend than truth.An abridged English translation of Amarendra Baahubali's biographical poem-- Amarendram Jeevakrutih





	Amarendram Jeevakrutih

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inkn1ght1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkn1ght1/gifts), [avani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avani/gifts), [thelonewolfwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonewolfwrites/gifts), [arpita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arpita/gifts), [MayavanavihariniHarini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayavanavihariniHarini/gifts).

  1. Us bards do not lie, tis true,

Let Charandas tell you a tale,

Here walked a legend now lost,

My words are not for sale.

  1. Was a prophecy made by the midwife?

That he would scale the sky above him.

Or did humble beginnings lie quiet?

While his mother’s light went dim.

  1. Who kissed the top of his tender head?

Who held him to her bosom close?

Who made him a son, a prince, a king?

Who was it that the fates chose?

  1. Sivagami walked in the name of Siva,

Destroying, cleansing, birthing life,

In a land made empty by untimely death,

She raised harmony and love mid strife.

  1. In rich blood and poor bloodless wine,

Drowned the hollow lie of her womanhood

She was queen and queen mother too…

Diamonds and rubies, charcoal and wood.

  1. Did the child of her heart know the pain,

Of losing that which was never known?

Or did the orphan not know his truth,

That he was hers, just not her own.

  1. His pudgy fingers clasped hers tight,

Strength would be his, she knew then.

“Baahubali,” she cooed in his ears,

A man of the Gods, A God among men.

  1. Serpents guarded his crib each night,

Wolves sang him to sleep.

Sivagami rocked the cradle with her hands,

Mekhala’s promises didn’t come cheap.

  1. T’was a full moon night in spring,

Sealed in stone was his end that day.

No man was too small for the little prince,

Who simply wanted the old slave for play.

  1. Katappa wept his hurts unfettered,

Oaths of old past came crashing undone,

One impish smile on two dimpled cheeks,

Before long, his bones knew to run.

  1. All summer they played tag and marbles,

Each morning was a lifetime of stolen bliss.

The slave marveled at this unexpected bounty,

Which would end someday, that he would miss.

  1. But the prince’s love was freely given,

In life and death, and in faith and soul

Katappa learned slowly to trust him,

And one day he knew to be whole.

  1. Healing came easy to Baahu, the good.

As was the touch of his gentle grace.

From the lowliest ant to peasant and prince,

None in Mahishmati knew a kinder face.

  1. Truth was served in the name of Hari,

Virtue vied for space with valor,

He wore an armor of compassion,

Over robes made by destiny’s tailor.

  1. Never a harsh word uttered from his lips,

Nor misfortune desired for anyone.

Riding the wings of righteous glory,

He was Sivagami’s moon and sun.

  1. But envy brewed in the folds of her womb,

Fratricide would come with lies and deceit.

Blood would thirst for blood’s own blood,

Jeevanadhi’s waters wouldn’t cool the heat.

  1. Bit by bit, the fates would conspire,

Beyond gilded doors and golden covers.

Fathers and sons versus sons and mothers,

In broken homes, death close by hovers.

  1. A tribe so fearsome as never seen nor heard of,

The Kalakeya would come as a swarm of bees.

Insults hurled at mother and motherland?

O, His rage would force them to their knees.

  1. A hand poised midair to defend the people

His Sword in the other to decimate the devil,

Arrows and darts pierced his armor in vain,

His light shone through to eclipse the evil.

  1. King he shall be; savior of all that’s holy

Blessings and love sweetened the breeze,

At last, peace will reign for eternity,

A sigh of stale hopes, somewhere did freeze.

  1. The Queen knew neither son nor husband,

Posion flowed from their lips unsealed.

But matters of propriety held her aloof,

To undue frustrations, she did not yield.

  1. The would-be king made his first state tour,

Did he know he would meet his love out there?

Fighting petty thieves and bandits one day,

He saw her—beauty and courage and flair.

  1. An act was spun to melt her proud heart--

An idiot to win her winsome smile, no jest!

Her smarts and soul warred within her.

Bahadur, the bull would be a fitting test.

  1. But the fool was not outdone so quick;

Love for himself and not for his great fame.

A scratch on the arm was faked as a break.

She sang him a lullaby, with Kanha his name.

  1. Amid fanfare, they boarded the ship home,

Sails and smiles, swans and sweet wishes.

Nights were spent in song and surreal awe,

Hugs were long, and deep the kisses.

  1. The happy dream then ended in full court,

Lies and misunderstandings broke open.

Bhalla, and not Baahu, would be the groom,

The bride was reduced to a trophy, a token.

  1. The princess of Kunthala didn’t hold back.

She was no object, nor puppet on a string.

Her scathing words; whiplashes of judgment,

The Rajamata saw days of discord coming.

  1. And Baahubali would be king no more,

Nor son to Sivagami ever again,

Motherless, snake, simpleton, nobody,

Now he would know which was his lane.

  1. Heartsick and hurt, he refused to cry.

Dharma was sacred, his emotions could wait.

What of the princess, his to hold and cherish?

Was he even worthy? An orphaned ingrate?

  1. Marriage came, with fatherhood in tow

Joy unimagined, coursed through his veins.

A piece of him, unconditional, at last!

The Gods had given him a shelter in the rains.

  1. But nothing stays when all is borrowed.

A vile touch burned crumbling hopes to dust,

Chopped fingers, falsehood, and injustice,

His sword spoke and cut away the rust.

  1. And the trees bowed down before him,

The mountains and seas sang his glory.

Nothing moved his mother’s stone heart,

The beginnings of this ill-omened story.

  1. His blade was raised one last time,

Sethupathy’s evil would not live,

his head rolled at Devasena’s feet,

But justice, Sivagami wouldn’t give.

  1. Golden beads scattered on the ground,

Stripped forever of rank, love, and name.

Stinging needles, Mother’s words cut him,

Humiliation was his, as was the shame.

  1. One hand around the last of his own,

Devasena did follow him to the depths of hell.

Rama, disgraced. Sita, disowned.

The palace fell silent, in sorrowed farewell.

  1. Each step outwards undid each day;

Of love given for a cost, and the lies told.

Where would they go? Worry asked, afraid.

When would the cards of darkness fold?

  1. The good people of the soil knew better.

Baahubali was their son and their king.

Come to live among them; a boon, a blessing.

Their simple welcome soothed his agony’s sting.

  1. On hard earth they slept as flies buzzed around,

Sleep wouldn’t come on empty stomachs that night.

Her tired feet ached and reddened and swelled.

His adoring touch couldn’t lessen their plight.

  1. Hot sun poured buckets of fire on his face,

As he mined the rocks for mineral and ore.

As the days blended into the twilight hour,

He found his succor beside her on the floor.

  1. The weeks passed well in honest hard work.

From the fields and the mines, he built pulleys too;

To lift water and stone, and heaps of harvest,

Marvels of his genius; work prospered anew.

  1. On a rock in a clearing, he sat tall and regal.

Brother Bhalla was sovereign but not the king.

Baahubali-- the name was chanted-- a prayer,

His was their honor, their melody to sing.

  1. Envy struck yet again with wrath—Death;

Was the only answer left to give.

An assassin was sent; not to kill at once,

But to draw out the bait; he would not live.

  1. And Kumara Varma, the brave, the foolish—

the bold, the loyal, the reckless was trapped;

An offering in the sacrifice of virtue and vice,

A bundle of vipers, glittering and gift-wrapped.

  1. Gullible mother wrote the saga of felicide,

Irrational in ego and mounting fury.

“Baahubali must die,” the words were voiced,

Sentence pronounced by a blinded jury.

  1. Away in the temple, Kumkum was applied,

To the belly and cheeks of the would-be mother.

The baby kicked—ah, finally, sweet Gods;

He knew elation, at last, like no other.

  1. The strains of the Nadaswaram rang rich,

He was going to be a father. Oh! The pride…

Then the labor pains hit—out he was ushered.

He paced back and forth as he waited outside.

  1. But lightning sparred with thunder, alas!

Mama was in peril; to be burnt at the stake.

Suffering Devasena handed Baahu his sword,

“Bring him back,” She whispered. “For my sake.”

  1. Onward he marched, in alarm and stress;

To make it in time, he ran as fast as he could.

Tied to a tree, bleeding wrists, broken skin;

Hopeless of heart, resigned, Mama stood.

  1. Baahubali’s anger surged forth as lava;

Yet another injustice; he was unfazed.

Calcified by an engineered attack,

To the ground this evil would be razed

  1. Fires and arrows rained upon him,

Forty-nine darts tore into his back.

He soldiered on with his uncle in tow,

Not a moment’s rest, no time to slack

  1. Under a rock at last, he did breathe;

Urgency and focus as he cut Mama’s restraints.

Katappa’s impending doom was near,

Oh! What a mural catastrophe paints.

  1. The Kalakeya came at them in hordes.

Beasts and men ripped through the brambles.

A hand for the self, and the rest for them all,

Katappa’s conscience lay scattered in shambles.

  1. Their fluid dance perfected for years,

Ensured victory over the unexpected foe.

And then knelled the hour dreaded by the slave,

He wished for escape; to spare himself this woe.

  1. But Sivagami’s orders rang loud in his ears,

“Will you do it? Or must I sully my own hands?”

Never her, never the royal mother, no!

Only his misdeeds could be etched in the sands.

  1. Time slowed down as he turned around,

Just under his lungs, the sword was run through.

The edges cut through skin, muscle, and bone,

The curse of treachery had kissed him too.

  1. His broken form lost its balance and fell,

Bleeding wounds warred with the fatal gash.

Red life poured forth to stain his lips and chin,

His fading eyes turned the slave’s oath to ash.

  1. “Baahu,” Katappa rushed to soften his fall.

But the unyielding ground knew no pity.

Stones and dirt dug into lacerated flesh,

Ghosts made merry in that desolate city.

  1. “Look after amma,” Baahu took leave,

To a land beyond here, beyond unreal ties.

The last of him hailed the holy motherland,

Eight miles away echoed, his newborn’s cries.

  1. An epoch ended where a new one began,

The old king’s corpse was feasted on by crows.

The mother was swept away by _Jeevanadhi_,

And the widow was taken captive by shadows.

  1. Breasts leaking milk, feet blood-cursted,

Her femininity sore was torn to shreds.

Clinking chains mocked chilled breath,

As sleet and snow turned locks to dreads.

  1. Her country was crushed to smoking rubble,

Revenge was ripped from her throat each scream;

Of anguish, helpless despair—she swore—

Her son’s only memory lulled her dreams.

  1. Bhallaladeva’s rot knew no duty nor honor,

In her torment, he heard the tinkles of bliss.

The sound of her wheezing, her cough, her rasp;

“Let her suffer, she deserves naught but this!”

  1. “The rains poured down on the goddess,

Defiling her peace and her serenity,

He gloated at her wretched misery,

He gloated in victory and vanity.

  1. She smiled through dirt-stained teeth,

Her laughter punctured his sleep.

She built his pyre, twig by little twig,

His screams of agony would be hers to keep.

  1. Her hair billowed unkempt in the wind,

Old bones aged brittle and weak,

But her spirit hardened anew each day,

Her silence knew someday she would speak.”

  1. In limbo somwhere, Baahubali’s soul wept—

Was this the sum of his blood, sweat, and tears?

He longed to send her a breath of comfort,

The winds carried his fervent words to her ears.

  1. Her days were counted in his beloved voice,

This was a penance for her God to return.

Once more, Rama would slay Dashanana,

The worlds would again see the ocean churn.

  1. But the everyday stood desperate as ever,

Milk soaked through her tarnished blouse.

Down her bound legs, ran blood each month;

There was no dignity in this besmeared house. 

  1. Hardened by humiliation, dry eyes—

Too little was left to weep over, she said.

Now she clung to hope for her turning tide,

Her indignant justice would rise from the dead

  1. It broke down barriers of the five elements;

Fire called for Bhallaladeva’s blood.

Floods of repression clashed with hurricanes,

Who would roll the tyrant’s limbs in mud?

  1. Motherhood may be dormant, dead it is not.

Her wounds, her gloom misted over gray.

Two decades and a half, a head again tossed,

For the father’s many crimes, the son did pay.

  1. Bhallaladeva readied for his tryst with ruin,

The second Baahubali’s blood too would spill.

But hubris is no man’s friend forever.

The lion was starving, and he was the kill.

  1. Years of torture would bear fruit now;

Devasena fired up Shakti’s sacred flame.

Another demon would burn after 26 years,

Mahishmati would her blighted spirit reclaim.

  1. The fabled fiend went up in a blaze,

Pinned to the pyre, he begged for release.

His whimpering went unheard in the din,

Of rejoicing merry, and innocence at ease.

  1. Devasena fell to the ground and sobbed;

Her love had been avenged, the exile was done.

She would live for him, her lost years and hopes.

And then, they would meet and unite as one.


End file.
